


Two-Step Foxtrot

by GutterBall



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Kisses and snuggles, M/M, Panic Attacks, Snark, Tumblr Prompt, and Star Trek!, kinda fluffy though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterBall/pseuds/GutterBall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh trips in the mess hall, and Chuck catches him. By sort of dipping him. Everything else springs from that one little accident. It's a complete foxtrot, and I ain't talkin' about the dance step.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-Step Foxtrot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [davecabbage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/davecabbage/gifts).



> As usual, I blame [davecabbage](http://davecabbage.tumblr.com/). You can't see the tags on [this prompt](http://gutterballgt.tumblr.com/post/132515728507/so-this-just-happened), but in the tags, she evilly pointed out that the catcher was a ginger while the catchee was blonde and just generally Raleigh-ish.
> 
> Plus, I usually have Chuck pining for an oblivious Raleigh, and I thought it'd be nice to turn the tables. Poor Raleigh.

Okay. So maybe Raleigh should've been looking where he was going.

But Mako had been too busy in Tokyo to talk much for the past month, and Raleigh missed her like he'd miss a limb, and she'd finally sent him a ridiculously long email detailing the meetings she'd attended and the politicians she'd quietly and politely shut right the hell down and the promises for funding she'd secured from private contributors, and he couldn't look away from his tablet if he tried.

Until he tripped over a piece of jaeger scrap inexplicably lying in the middle of the mess hall floor.

Cursing, he stumbled forward, the tablet flying from his hands. Just as he mentally prepared himself to kiss the concrete of the floor, a hard hand gripped his flailing left wrist. Unfortunately, he continued falling forward until an equally hard arm caught him across his chest and under his other arm.

He wasn't sure how it happened, but he spun as momentum tried to keep him falling forward and found himself face to face with... Chuck Hansen. A Chuck Hansen that currently looked as surprised as Raleigh felt.

And... with this position... was basically dipping him like they'd just finished a big dance number in an old MGM musical.

Mortification washed through him, and he was miserably aware that his face had just turned damn near purple with it. Chuck didn't look any better, although he didn't look furious yet.

Which couldn't possibly last.

"Hey! When's the wedding, boys?"

Aaaaannnnnd there it was. The insta-fury for which Chuck Hansen was world-famous.

In a snap, the jerk let go, and Raleigh grunted as he landed flat on his back on the floor. The back of his head knocked off the concrete, and his hands immediately went to the spot. The chuckles and whistles from the rapt audience only increased.

"Dammit, Chuck!"

"Fuck you, Becket."

And with that, the cranky bastard stalked off, red-faced and ramrod straight in the spine. Resisting the urge to flip the little prick off, Raleigh sat up, still rubbing at his head, and glared at the metal chunk that had caused his current sorrows. A piece of Crimson Typhoon, if the race-car red was any indication.

Well, shit. Now he couldn't even be mad. Not like he could yell at the rest of the jaeger.

Sighing, he hauled himself to his feet, picked up the piece of scrap, and looked around for his tablet. A tech kindly handed it to him, winking salaciously. His blush deepened, but he muttered a nearly incoherent thank-you and scuttled off.

He wasn't hungry anymore.

\--

Raleigh hadn't had this kind of dream in years. The good kind of dream instead of screaming nightmares. A dream about warm breath against his neck. A strong body cuddled up against his own. Sleepy kisses and roaming hands.

Hard hands, those.

Dream Raleigh ran his own hands up brawny arms, trying to pull the other body closer. Hard arms. Heavy-muscled. They felt... familiar.

Opening his eyes on a lazy smile, Dream Raleigh looked up at his dream lover's face and... it was Chuck.

Chuck _Hansen_.

Real Raleigh jerked out of the dream so fast he nearly fell out of bed and probably would have if he hadn't somehow twisted the blankets around his legs. As it was, he ended up with his torso hanging over the edge of the bed and one hand on the cold, hard floor, his heart trying to crawl out his mouth and escape for the hills.

Were there hills in Hong Kong? To his shame, he'd barely been out of the shatterdome in the year he'd spent here. Mako would probably know. If she was here to ask.

Why the hell was he dreaming about Chuck "Drop You Like a Sack of Kaiju Shit" Hansen? Was he seriously so hard-up that a single accidental dip had him fantasizing? God, how pathetic was that?

Not that Chuck had pulled out the "drop you like a sack of kaiju shit" hate recently, other than literally dropping him in the mess hall. In fact, as he hauled himself fully back into bed and straightened out his warm covers, Raleigh was tempted to (grudgingly) admit that the younger Hansen had been borderline not-pissy at him for a good two months now.

They weren't friends -- and might never be; at heart, they were too much alike to really appreciate each other -- but they were... colleagues. They could make idle chitchat, so long as Raleigh didn't push any of Chuck's buttons or vice versa. Pitfall had given them that, at least.

But not much more. Chuck stayed because his father was acting marshal. Raleigh stayed because, despite Mako's frequent travel to deal with the bureaucrats and donors, she wanted to stay where she had lived up to her potential and strode right past it, finding greater challenges to conquer. And he wanted to stay with her.

And that was that.

The dream was... a weird subconscious quirk. It had been a shocking moment, that's all. It was bound to linger on his mind. Sure, it had gone a... different... direction than the actual scenario, but maybe that was to be expected.

He hadn't even _looked_ at anyone that way since Knifehead ripped everything out of him, and though he'd spent the past year trying to take back everything he could, he wasn't quite _there_ yet. He wasn't ready to let anyone but Mako in.

So. Nothing to worry about.

Trying to relax, Raleigh stacked his hands under his head and stared up at the ceiling. He had to admit Chuck was... a rough sort of handsome. Those dimples, man. Admittedly, Raleigh had really only seen them when the brat was either being a smartass or was furious as hell, but still. Dimples.

Nice eyes, too. Clear as the ocean, and just as changeable in color. And those fucking eyelashes. Chuck Hansen had ginger lashes for _days_.

...Wait.

...Wait just a goddamn minute.

When exactly had he noticed Chuck's fucking eyelashes?

Sitting up in bed and staring off into the dark, Raleigh felt... almost ill. No. No no no. No, he was absolutely not appreciating Chuck Hansen's considerable assets. Like the ridiculous breadth of those shoulders. Like how built-up his thighs were from Striker's faster design specs.

Those fucking hard hands that had, nevertheless, kept him from faceplanting on the floor and had held him with surprising gentleness until they both realized what was happening.

Freckles. So many freckles. Were they all over his chest? Dotted across those fucking epic shoulders?

_Do not think about potential freckles on his abs. Or his inner thighs. Or his gorgeous ass that fills out those goddamn pants he always fucking wears like he only has the one pair or has fifty pairs of the exact same ones._

"Jesus!"

He flung back the covers and threw himself off the mattress to pace the cold floor, wishing he'd put on socks before going to bed. But how could he have known? He hadn't noticed himself noticing, as it were.

When did this happen?

"Don't panic." Yes, he talked to himself. He used his best Yancy voice when he did it, too. He was legally dead for over four minutes, so he was allowed a few new personality quirks. "Calm down, kid. It's gonna be okay."

He was _not_ in lo... er... _lust_ with Chuck Hansen. He just hadn't been laid in over six years, and he was finally starting to feel like a real human being again for the first time in exactly that long, so it wasn't a surprise that his libido had finally made a comeback.

It wasn't Chuck. It was circumstance.

Maybe it was finally time to start looking again. He didn't think he was up to a relationship -- wasn't sure anyone would even want one with him, what with his memory gaps and scars and nightmares -- but that didn't mean he couldn't have a fling. Scratch the itch. Get back in the saddle.

Which definitely did not send up a mental image of riding Chuck Hansen like a cowboy on an unbroken stallion.

Exhausted suddenly, he slumped down on the edge of his bed and ran his hands through his hair, wincing as he accidentally prodded the lump just at the base of his skull. From where Chuck had dropped him.

After catching him and holding him close. With those hard fucking hands.

"Goddammit, Chuck!"

So much for sleep.

\--

"Looking for your boyfriend, little Becket?"

Sighing, Raleigh scooted over a bit to give Sasha room to sit, if she chose. Apparently, she did choose, because she settled astride the bench seat and stole a piece of his toast off his tray.

"Okay, who told you?"

"We see video. Aleksis... he is still laughing." She smiled fiercely. "Is good for him."

Raleigh blinked. "Did you say 'video'?"

Her smile turned positively feral. "The med techs, they are still fluttering over it. Is a betting pool."

He blinked again, feeling pale. "For what??"

She bit into the toast, her teeth entirely too sharp for such a mundane task as eating breakfast. Those weapons were better suited to ripping out the throats of the unworthy. If he hadn't seen her sweating and gritting out furious tears in excruciating physical therapy, he'd swear she'd never been damn near drowned and crushed in a jaeger a year ago.

Aleksis hadn't come out quite as lucky, but he was adjusting to the prosthetic with admirable grace, though he still wasn't allowed out of his room in the med bay for more than the occasional supervised trip to the mess hall and back. The poor guy had to be losing his mind with boredom.

Suddenly, the fact that there was a video of his and Chuck's impromptu tango didn't seem so bad.

"Seriously, Sasha. What the hell are they betting on?"

She put his toast back on his plate, one bite short, and patted him on the head. "On when the announcement will be, of course."

With that, she stood and walked away without a look back, and Raleigh wondered when, exactly, he'd become the Russians' pet. Because that's sort of how they'd treated him ever since he came out of the coma and found Sasha conked out in an uncomfortable-looking chair settled between his bed and Aleksis'.

Then again, being the Russians' pet had its perks. It certainly kept the Weis from pranking him mercilessly, as they did pretty much everyone else in the Shatterdome.

...Wait.

Fuck. No, they fucking didn't.

Scowling suddenly, he dug in his pocket for the piece of Crimson Typhoon that had been so innocently lounging on the mess hall floor. They... they couldn't have known he'd be walking by. They couldn't have known he'd be absorbed in a message from Mako, not looking where he was going.

No fucking _way_ they could've known Chuck would actually stop to catch him instead of laughing as he watched his old nemesis fall flat.

Forgetting all about his breakfast -- Mako would give him that little disapproving look of hers if she were here -- he shoved away from the table and headed for the jaeger bay and the basketball goal where the little bastards spent most of their time. The piece of Typhoon clenched in his hands dug into his skin until he wasn't sure he wouldn't end up bleeding, but he had a really, really bad suspicion, and he needed an answer.

Unfortunately, the Weis took one look at his expression and scattered like he'd thrown a grenade between them.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you assholes!"

"Sorry, Becket!" one of them -- Hu, maybe? -- yelled back over his shoulder as he fled.

The lone tech who had been playing a game of pick-up with them froze in his tracks, eyes wide and fists clenched. Raleigh tried to school his expression a bit, but it was damn hard.

"They... they did not know it would be you, sir."

Of course not. Even _they_ weren't omniscient. But still.... "But they did film it and put it online."

The poor guy nodded, pale.

Sighing -- the tech looked like Raleigh was about to eat him -- he forced his grip to lessen enough to toss the piece of jaeger over to the tech, who caught it with surprise. "Tell them if I see it again, one of them is eating it."

Pivoting on his heel, he strode directly to his room and slammed the door behind him. The Weis couldn't have known, of course. Hell, Raleigh hadn't known himself.

Still hard not to be pissed at them, though.

Especially after he watched the video and saw the gobsmacked expression on his blushing face, which matched the gobsmacked expression on Chuck's blushing face. They looked like morons.

Quick reflexes on Chuck's part, though. A hell of a good catch.

And Raleigh hadn't realized the little shit hadn't been wearing his leather jacket, so the shifting muscle in his back and arms was plain to see. As was the curve of that frankly fantastic ass. And the taut line of his thighs.

And if Raleigh watched the video a few more times before bed, well... no one needed to know.

\--

So... maybe he should... test the waters.

By the time he'd awakened, sweating and half-hard in his boxer briefs from dreams of himself and Chuck in increasingly explicit positions over the course of three nights, Raleigh finally admitted that he was... interested. He had no idea if Chuck was or not, or if Chuck was into guys. Or if the cranky bastard would just deck him the next time they bumped into each other. Maybe literally bumped into each other, at the rate they were going.

But he was curious. They'd never spent much time together, but once they'd stopped being enemies, Raleigh had been forced to admit that Chuck was as driven, brilliant, and adaptable as he was arrogant, obnoxious, and completely lacking in tact. Mako had casually let slip one day just how much work Chuck had always done on Striker, both in the planning and in the building. And the maintenance, of course.

Raleigh had mostly just piloted and let the techs do all the technical stuff. He probably could've learned if he'd wanted to then, but... probably not now. His memory wasn't what it used to be. Neither was his ability to concentrate.

Brushing all of that aside, he rolled his shoulders as if in preparation for a fight -- which this might end up being -- and tried to look casual as he strolled into the mess hall. It was an off hour -- after lunch but before supper -- so the big room was a ghost town. Just two techs sharing a piece of pie and Chuck, sitting at his own table across the room from them, drinking... a cup of tea?

A grin threatened, so instead of sitting down, like he'd planned, he went to the dessert cooler and grabbed himself a piece of pie, hesitated, then grabbed a piece of cake, as well. And a carton of milk, which he tucked under his arm so he could hold a plate in each hand. Then, he took a deep breath and headed for Chuck's table.

They'd had actual conversations before. This wasn't unheard-of.

Although Raleigh didn't usually come bearing gifts.

Shit. Too late now.

"Hey, Chuck." Nice. Sounded perfectly casual.

He sat as Chuck looked up from his tablet. Raleigh snuck a glimpse. Schematics. Because of course.

"Ray."

He rolled his eyes. Chuck wasn't budging on that one. "And here I was gonna offer you your choice, but now, the cake is mine."

Those clear, changeable eyes narrowed. "I'll fight you for it."

Surprised, he chuckled. "I believe it. Fine. Have your cake. Apple pie is better, anyway."

The brat accepted his dessert with a smirk, and they ate in silence. Somehow, this didn't feel like progress. It wasn't a step back or anything, just... not a step forward.

On the other hand, Raleigh was a bit shy of ruining a peaceable moment. So, he kept his fool mouth shut.

"Something on your mind, mate?"

He looked up from where he was pressing pie crust crumbs into mush on his otherwise empty plate and found Chuck watching him with one raised eyebrow. He didn't look particularly interested, but he didn't look like he wanted Raleigh to leave him alone, either.

So, he shrugged. "Sorry. Just kinda bored. Mako's in Tokyo for another week, at least. I don't really remember what I used to do for fun, ya know?"

Chuck snorted and washed down his last bite of cake with his last swallow of tea. "If I remember right, you and your brother used to either get into bar fights or get laid."

For once, mention of Yancy didn't make him cringe. Because Chuck was right. Grinning, he shrugged. "True enough."

He watched Chuck's reaction with interest, but the jerk didn't give anything away. "So go do that, yeah?"

He forced himself to keep still and not fidget. "Which one?"

Another snort. "Whichever you want, mate. Got time for both now, yeah?"

"Time, yes." He fiddled with his fork. "Inclination... maybe." He determinedly stared at the crumbs on his plate. "Opportunity... not so much."

But at that, Chuck barked a rough laugh. "If you're asking me for dating advice, you're barking up the wrong tree, Ray. I could get you into a fight, all right, but getting fucked is another matter altogether."

Everything in him went still and watchful, and he tried like hell not to show it. "You're tellin me." Fuck it. Might as well be honest. "I haven't been laid since Knifehead."

Chuck blinked. "Jesus."

Raleigh shrugged, feeling stiff and unnatural and hoping it didn't show.

Shaking his head, Chuck shoved aside his plate and leaned a meaty forearm on the table. The same one that had caught Raleigh around the ribs, that had wrapped around his back and held him so effortlessly.

"Look, Becket -- you saved the world. Pretty sure you could take two steps onto the mainland and find a dozen women willing to give you a ride."

Brushing off the part about saving the world -- that had been a joint effort, no matter that Raleigh had been the one to actually push the button in that other world -- he shrugged. "Not looking for a woman, really. Or even a dozen of them."

It was true enough. He liked both flavors, as it were, but that thing with Naomi and Yancy had left him with a bad taste in his mouth. Since then, he'd gravitated toward men instead of just whoever caught his eye.

That right eyebrow rose. "Said as if there weren't another dozen willing blokes standing in line behind the sheilas."

Huh. So Chuck wasn't averse to Raleigh being gay. Or at least bi. Unfortunately, the brat hadn't let on to his own preference. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to ask without just plain asking.

Not really thinking about it, he muttered, "I'd settle for just one."

That right eyebrow rose again. "Got one picked out, have you?"

Too much. Too much, too fast. Mentally backpedaling, Raleigh dropped his eyes back to his plate. "Not exactly. I really didn't mean to talk about this, actually."

"Then what the fuck, Becket?"

A wry chuckle left him shaking his head. What the fuck, indeed. "Honestly? I was asking what you do for fun in hopes of you letting me crash the party. I wasn't kidding when I said I don't remember what I used to do besides fighting and fucking."

Chuck was silent a long time. Long enough that the quiet became uncomfortable. Hesitant, Raleigh glanced up from his plate, hoping it looked casual. Chuck, however, didn't notice. The kid -- not really a kid; poor guy had never had the chance to be a kid -- was frowning down at his tablet. Not scowling yet, but... that was definitely an intense expression.

"Chuck?"

He twitched and looked up, his expression complex. "Not had much time for fun."

Oh. right. Because he'd lost his mother at ten and spent his youth in shatterdomes and got into the academy at fifteen and had been saving the world ever since. Never a dull moment.

Not true, of course, but what exactly had Raleigh expected as an answer from Chuck "I Basically AM My Jaeger" Hansen?

"Right." _Nice one, Rals. Get it together._ "Uh... huh."

Internally, he was facepalming hard enough to give himself more brain damage. Externally, he was trying desperately not to look as moronic as he felt. Desperate to salvage something, he blurted out the first thing that popped into his head.

"Stars."

Chuck blinked, the frown smoothing out. "Eh?"

Blushing again and seriously considering aborting the mission to regroup, Raleigh fidgeted with his milk carton so he wouldn't be fiddling with his fork again. "Stargazing, I mean. When I was a kid, Yance and I would climb up on the roof and look at the stars. We'd wonder if there were other civilizations out there somewhere, looking back at us."

_Abort! Abort! Abort!_

Sure enough, Chuck grunted. "Guess you found that one out the hard way, mate."

"Right." He had no choice. This fact-finding mission was a complete balls-up. _Retreat and regroup, soldier_. "Maybe that's why I don't remember what I used to do for fun, huh?"

"Maybe so."

"I, uh... yeah. Need to hit the kwoon."

"Good luck with that, Becket."

"Yeah."

_Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck._

\--

Something about his impaired memory made it difficult for him to concentrate on reading these days, but sometimes, he just needed a book in his hand. He blamed Yancy, who'd always carried around a book wherever he went.

So he tried to read that night, _The Thin Red Line_ propped against his raised knees as he leaned back on his doubled-up pillow in his bed. It went better than usual. He'd actually managed three chapters, which was a personal record. Admittedly, before Pitfall, he could've read the entire book in a few hours, but after this afternoon's disaster of a conversation, he'd take what he could get.

Perhaps his determined focus on paying attention to the words on the page accounted for the fact that he didn't equate the increasing, erratic pounding with someone knocking at his door until it was accompanied by a hollered "Jesus, Ray -- you dead in there or what?"

Chuck was at the door. At -- he checked the heads-up monitor's readout on his desk -- 10:30 PM.

More thrown than he'd admit, he tumbled out of bed, leaving the book on his pillow. "Coming!"

When he cranked open the door, he just sort of stood there in his pajamas, blinking like an idiot, until Chuck spoke. "Oi, sorry, mate. Were you already out for the night?"

Blushing -- he never blushed this much, dammit -- Raleigh brushed at his stupid hair, well aware that it was probably sticking up in the back from where he'd been lying back against the pillow. "Uh, no. I was just reading."

"Oh." Chuck shifted. "Sorry to interrupt, then. I can just--"

"No!" Okay, it wasn't a yell. More a... an expostulation. "I mean, it's really hard for me to concentrate on text anymore, so... I could... use a break?"

"Right."

The poor guy settled a bit, shoving his hands in his pockets. It abuptly occurred to Raleigh that Chuck was wearing his coat. And... a sweater? He'd never seen Chuck in anything but the ubiquitous grey t-shirt.

"So, mate, I was thinking."

Lost, Raleigh could only stare and wait for more information.

"Uh... you said something about stargazing earlier?"

Light dawned. Sweater. Coat. Because it got chilly at night this time of year in Hong Kong.

"Oh. Oh! Right -- lemme just...."

Fumbling and trying not to look too eager, he looked down at his inadequate pajamas, then shot Chuck an apologetic look. Chuck waved it off, apparently content to wait.

No sense pushing such unreliable patience. Hurrying, Raleigh hauled on a pair of thick socks and his boots. His pajama pants were thick flannel, so they'd be fine, but the t-shirt definitely would not, so he took Chuck's example and pulled on a sweater. PPDC-issued, because his old ones were a bit too threadbare to really be warm. Then, he hauled out his old coat, warily eyed the stains and worn-down places, and shrugged. It was clean, even if it wasn't pretty. He even remembered to grab one of the knitted stocking caps Mako had sent him from her trip to Canada.

Chuck wasn't wearing a hat. Girding himself up, he grabbed another in an inoffensive color pattern, then strode over to offer it. To his surprise, Chuck didn't look irritated or offended at his assumption that he couldn't take care of himself. Instead, the kid looked... pleasantly surprised.

"You knit, mate?"

Relieved, he huffed a chuckle. "Nah. Mako sent me a whole selection from Canada. I figured you wouldn't want the neon pink one or the one with reindeer antlers."

At that, Chuck grinned, and Raleigh couldn't help but melt at the emergence of those goddamn dimples. "Not as dumb as you think you are, Ray."

Though he inwardly warmed at the backward compliment, he wryly shook his head. "Still not smart, though. I don't have any gloves."

But Chuck seemed unbothered. "'S why the universe gave us pockets."

Unable and unwilling to argue that logic, Raleigh grinned and hauled his door shut behind him as he followed Chuck off the stoop. They didn't talk on the way to the jaeger bay and its empty catwalks that led up to the roof access. They didn't have to. Besides, Yancy had always told him that a closed mouth gathered no foot.

His grin turned wry, and he looked down at his boots so Chuck wouldn't see it and ask him what it was about. He wasn't sure he could explain. He was just... glad.

When they climbed up through the hatch and out onto the shatterdome's roof, Chuck almost immediately grunted and announced that they should've thought to bring blankets. The wind was stronger up here.

"Oi, not gonna be able to stay out long."

Though he privately agreed, he shoved his hands in his coat pockets and nudged the brat with his elbow. "Speak for yourself, Australia. This is downright balmy compared to where I'm from."

"Bullshit. Cold is cold."

But Chuck didn't sound angry, so they tried to scope out a likely spot with a clear view but some protection from the wind. Finally settling on the leeward side of a maintenance shed, Raleigh lay down on the metal surface of the roof and looked up into the clear, dark sky. Chuck... did not.

Raleigh grinned up at him. "You'll have one hell of a crick in your neck if you try to look up like that, Chuck."

"I'm not snuggling with you on the roof, Becket."

He rolled his eyes. "You're the one who wanted to stargaze. Besides, there's plenty of room. You could draw a crime scene outline over here and still be behind the shed."

Thankfully, the brat snorted and lay down willingly enough, elbow to elbow if not arm to arm. After a long moment during which they both just looked up at the stars, Chuck shifted to get more comfortable.

"Thought you did this for fun."

Yeah. He'd sort of been waiting for that. "It's a multifaceted pleasure, Chuck. Sometimes, you talk about the constellations and the stories behind them. Sometimes, you talk about favorite _Star Trek_ episodes. Sometimes, you just lay quiet and think about how small we really are in the vastness of existence."

Chuck snorted. "That is way too fucking deep for a couple of kids. Admit it. You were thinking about masturbating."

A laugh jumped out of him, and he smacked the nearest arm, reminded of how hard the muscle there was. "We are not talking about masturbating! Jesus!"

They were quiet again for a few moment before Chuck again broke the silence. "Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck is _Star Trek?"_

Raleigh sat up and looked down at the man at his side. "Please tell me you're joking."

Chuck's eyebrows rose, though he stayed lying down.

"C'mon, man! You don't have to like it, but tell me you've at least heard of it!"

Shrugging, Chuck seemed unperturbed. "My old man liked war movies, and my mum was into Schwarzeneggar."

He blinked. "Really?"

Another shrug. "Pretty sure she wanted to be Sarah Connor when she grew up."

That got a laugh. "Okay, I'll give you that. But seriously, you've never even heard of it? I mean... five separate series spanning, like, forty years? Something like thirteen movies? All the fanfiction that has ever been?"

"What do you want me to say, mate? Maybe it wasn't that big a deal in Australia."

He rolled his eyes and lay back down. "It was big everywhere, jerk."

Again, a companionable quiet fell between them, and Raleigh couldn't help but be... pleased. This was nice. He hadn't expected nice from Chuck. Yeah, he was interested, but he hadn't expected anything in return, really.

He... he _needed_ this. He didn't want to do anything to ruin this.

Even if part of him might always want a little more. He could ignore that.

"So... we've laid on a roof and looked at the stars and talked about _Star Trek_."

He grinned softly. "Yes, we have."

He heard Chuck turn his head toward him but didn't look. "Was it fun?"

The grin widened, and he gave in and let himself look. Chuck wasn't quite grinning, but he didn't look like he was forcing himself to stay, either.

"Surprisingly, it was. Even though you're the worst for not knowing what _Star Trek_ is, you Aussie heathen."

Okay, that got a smirk that was almost a grin. "I refuse to take that as an insult coming from a sci fi nerd."

Shrugging, he conceded the point. He was okay with being labelled a nerd by such an obvious jock, no matter how brilliant with a schematic and tools.

Then, Chuck actually nudged him with his elbow. "Maybe you can introduce me to your nerd shit next time instead of us freezing our asses off out here, yeah?"

Raleigh's pulse leapt. He hadn't fucked it all up somehow? Chuck wanted to hang out with him again? Had actually initiated it?

_Keep it cool, Rals. Don't get overeager. He's just talking about watching some episodes, not getting naked and holding hands. Get that right out of your head._

True enough. He really couldn't ask for more than simple companionship. That had been in short supply for far too long. He was grateful.

He didn't need anything else.

So he tried to shrug casually. "We can try it. If you hate it, we can always watch something else."

"Deal."

But neither of them made any move to get up, even though Raleigh was uncomfortably chilled by now and suspected Chuck was probably worse off. He was tempted to scoot closer to that hard bulk, but he refrained. It might be misconstrued. He didn't want to do anything to make it weird.

"Did you ever suspect giant monsters from another dimension?"

Raleigh swallowed hard. He hadn't thought something like that would come up. "Nope. That was not on my radar."

Chuck nodded. "Not on mine, either. Think they're still out there somewhere?"

"I know they are." More chilled than the wind could ever make him, he shifted to wrap his arms around himself. "You didn't see--"

He clamped his mouth shut, almost biting his tongue. He didn't want to talk about that other world. Didn't want to talk about the seemingly infinite line of kaiju just waiting to be unleashed upon them. The screaming colors that were all wrong and hurt his mind to remember. The feeling of desolation and devastation from that dying world and the innate, reflexive horror of any beings so cruelly capable of destroying an entire world just to take it over themselves and run it down as empty and lifeless as the one he saw broiling away outside Gipsy's visor.

"Oi, Ray--"

Hard arms and hands pulled him against an equally hard chest, and he abruptly realized he was shuddering and gasping, and he felt like a complete asshole. What a fucking great time for a panic attack. But he couldn't stop. He just hoped he didn't break down into useless tears this time.

Chuck didn't deserve that.

"Breathe, mate. Easy, then. C'mon, with me -- in... and out... in... and out...."

God, he couldn't do anything without fucking it up. Jesus, he didn't used to be such a fucking waste. Unfortunately, none of that helped get his red-lining systems back in order, and he buried his face against Chuck's massive chest and tried not to cry. Tried to let that big body be a comfort.

"That's it, Raleigh. Breathe. It's gonna be okay, yeah? I'm sorry I asked. Just breathe with me."

He tried. He tried so fucking hard to focus. Focus on hard hands rubbing circles on his back. Focus on that hard chest rising and falling as Chuck tried to slow down his breathing. Focus on the low murmuring against the top of his head where his stocking cap had slid off in all the fuss.

"You're doing great, Ray. Just right. Keep breathing with me, yeah? Slow and deep."

Was he? Hard to believe with his heart jackrabbiting in his throat and his hands feeling numb even as he clenched them in Chuck's sweater. He _hated_ this. He _hated_ having to cling. His other panic attacks had mercifully happened when he was alone. He'd thought they _would_ only happen when he was alone because he tended to think too much then.

This wasn't fair. Everything had been going so well.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Chuck. Fuck, I didn't mean to--"

"Shhh." Those hard hands didn't lighten up, didn't stop rubbing circles on his back. "Think I've never had a panic attack, mate? Think my old man hasn't?"

He blinked, still shuddering but a little more in control of his thoughts. Now that he thought about it... no. He'd never in a million years suspected either Herc or Chuck of experiencing panic attacks, but it made a weird kind of sense.

"Can't see some of the shit we've seen without toting about some baggage, yeah?"

His muscles seemed to all unclench at once, and suddenly, he was limp and exhausted. He slumped in Chuck's grip, feeling like the worst kind of shit. Like dropped kaiju shit in a person-shaped sack.

Ha ha.

Unfortunately, he still felt out of sorts, and he couldn't stop his mouth when it started to blurt. "Where'd you get so good at dealing with baggage, then?"

Thankfully, Chuck was again unperturbed. "Mandatory therapy. What, you've not been going?"

If he didn't feel so awful, he'd have cringed. Mako had tried to get him to go -- even Sasha had tried to urge him in her own way -- but he had more issues than Playboy at this point, and he was pretty sure the best therapist in the world would need ten lifetimes to work through even half of them.

"Seriously?" The hard chest heaved on a sigh. "You really should go, mate. I know it seems like there's just too much, but the first thing you learn there is that you can only focus on one thing at a time." A shrug that felt roughly like a mountain shifting. "Otherwise, you get overwhelmed and shut down."

And that... well, dammit, that actually made sense.

"I'll make you a deal, yeah?" The jerk actually waited until Raleigh nodded before deigning to continue. "You go to one session, and we'll watch _Star Trek_ for a week, whether I like it or not."

He blinked, well aware that he was back together enough to pull away and give Chuck his space, but... how had this happened? Four days ago, Chuck Hansen had dropped him in embarrassment for tripping in the mess hall. Now, Raleigh'd had a bitch of a panic attack, but Chuck was comforting him and making bargains out of spending more time with him to get him to go to therapy.

"Ray?"

Shit, he'd got lost in his head again. "Deal. Sorry, was just...."

"Yeah. It'll take a while. Sometimes, they take all night to get past." That big body shifted. "But... just asking, mate... you feel up to going in yet? No rush. Just... it's fucking cold up here."

Though he was loathe to leave the surprising comfort of that rough embrace, Raleigh nodded and pulled away, scrabbling for his cap as the cold bit at his exposed ears. His hair was longer than he usually wore it, but it still wasn't an effective shield against the wind.

"Sorry to keep you out here this long." Swallowing hard, he tested out his knees before shoving fully to his feet. The last thing he needed right now was a repeat of the mess hall incident. "I guess stargazing wasn't all I remembered it to be."

Chuck twisted to his feet with enviable grace for such a built guy. "I dunno, mate. I had a good time, up to that last bit there." The dimples made a surprise appearance around a wry smirk. "Might wait until summer to do it again, though."

Since he had no idea what to say in response to that and still felt brittle around the edges, he just shrugged a bit and shoved his hands in his pockets. It was an awkward way to end the evening, but Raleigh figured that was about par for his particular course.

At least no one was bleeding.

Baby steps.

\--

Raleigh didn't like the therapy.

He left his first session feeling raw and scalded, wishing he'd never gone in the first place. Unfortunately, that first session also left no room for doubt that he absolutely needed it. He needed some help dealing with... just... everything.

Mako had been right. Sasha had been right. Chuck was right.

Dammit.

But he was still in a touchy, prickly mood after agreeing to a regular therapy schedule, so he tried to clear his head on the way to supper and vowed to find the quietest possible corner of the mess hall and barricade himself in it. He knew isolating himself wasn't a good idea, but he figured not bagging up a meal and taking it back to his room to hide was about as far as he was willing to reach today.

Thus, he was less than pleased when Sasha sat across from him and gave him the eye.

"You finally went."

Sighing, he rubbed his aching temples and closed his eyes, the food smells from his plate almost sickening. "Was there a betting pool on that, too?"

"No, little Becket. Only the hope."

Frowning a bit, he looked at her, finding her looking less severe and more... fond.

"No one wants to see the hero self-destruct. You are lost when little Mori is not here. We have all wished for... I have not the English." She lapsed to her native tongue, looking frustrated. "Happy, Raleigh. We want you to be happy. That is why the betting pool, yes? Is not meant to insult."

The prickly, scraped part of him wanted to snap at her to mind her own business, but he knew she was being nothing but sincere. She wouldn't fuck with him. Neither of the Kaidanovskys would. So, he forced a grin he didn't feel.

"Guess I'm in a pretty bad place if you guys think Chuck will make me happier."

A shark smile threatened, but she contained it. Though her eyes glittered. "We worry about little Hansen, too. Not everyone gets a second chance."

This grin was a little more real. "Trying to force two wrongs to make a right?"

Eyes positively glowing now, she stood away from the table and tossed her response back over her shoulder. "We have seen stranger things in this world, yes?"

He chuckled quietly, feeling a bit less... fraught. He dug into his mashed potatoes, letting some of the therapist's questions about what he wanted to achieve from his therapy, what goals he had for himself, what he thought his most pressing needs were... fall away. They didn't go far, but far enough that he was able to eat without throwing up.

Being the Russians' pet really did have its perks.

"There you are, mate." Out of nowhere, Chuck sat down across from him, dropping a heavy-laden tray onto the table. "Fuck, Ray. You look one helluva lot better than I did after my first session."

Because Raleigh had absolutely told Chuck about setting the appointment. He wasn't sure he'd have gone, otherwise.

"Pretty sure I huddled in a corner and cried for half a day."

A small grin quirked his mouth, and he poked at his green beans. "The night is young."

Chuck barked a laugh, surprising him, before tucking into his steak and potatoes with obvious relish. "Well, I promise not to make you talk about it, yeah?"

"Appreciated." But he couldn't leave it at that. He just... didn't know how to say it. "Hey, Chuck?"

"Hm?" Because steak was still a luxury and Chuck had a solid mouthful of it and would not swallow one second before his enjoyment of each bite was complete. Not that Raleigh blamed him.

"I just... thanks. For getting me to go."

Chuck's eyebrows shot up, and he swallowed quickly, which made Raleigh feel bad. "Oi, mate, that was all you. It's not easy to make that appointment, but you did it. And you went."

He shook his head, lowering his eyes to his tray because he couldn't look into those eyes while he said the next bit. "I wouldn't have if you hadn't given me a reason."

After a long silence, Raleigh risked a look up, only to see Chuck looking back at him, wide-eyed. Oh, shit. Had... had he said too much? He didn't mean it like that. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to take some of the statement back without taking back the whole thing, and he wouldn't do that.

Eventually, Chuck seemed to roll some of the funk. He blinked, at least. "I... shit, mate. I got no idea what to say to that."

His mouth quirked a bit. "Me, neither."

Huffing something of a chuckle that wasn't quite there yet, the brat shook his head. "I really hope I don't hate that stupid show."

He rolled his eyes. "You know I won't hold you to it if you do."

But at that, Chuck caught his gaze and held it with a strange intensity. "I will. I don't welch on a promise, mate. You held up your end, and it was one fuck of a lot harder than just watching a show for a week."

Poking at his potatoes, Raleigh finally tore his gaze away. "If I remember right -- and that's a real question these days--" He grinned at Chuck's smirk. "--I also said we could watch something else if you really didn't like it."

"Eh." The brat shrugged, looking boyish suddenly as he grinned, unleashing the dimples. "You never know, mate. I might start to wonder what I've been doing with my life without _Star Trek_ in it."

He snorted. "Well, I sure as hell do."

They both snickered. Then, by mutual, unspoken agreement, they turned their attention to their meals. It had taken a while for Raleigh to get used to real, abundant food again, and he sometimes still had a hard time getting particularly rich foods down, but none of that seemed to be an issue tonight. Tonight, the steak might as well have been gourmet, the mashed potatoes award-winning, and the green beans... well... there wasn't much that could make green beans fancy, other than the bacon that had already been added to the batch.

Still tasted damn good, though.

And, better still, when he'd eaten his fill, Chuck insisted they should start their marathon tonight. Raleigh knew why, of course. Chuck was no one's fool. The brilliant bastard knew Raleigh would just go back to his bunk and think about that first therapy session and end up in a funk if allowed half a chance. He wouldn't mean to, of course, but if left to his own devices, he wouldn't be able to help himself.

So Chuck was offering to be a distraction. Raleigh appreciated it.

Thus, when supper was over and Chuck went to his room to change into comfortable pajamas, Raleigh did his part by snagging two pieces of chocolate cake from the cooler and wheedling two cups, a teapot, a hotplate, and a box of Earl Grey teabags from the kitchen. It was what Chuck had been drinking the other day, so Raleigh was willing to give it a try. And sincerely hoped it wasn't a fluke on Chuck's part.

The raised eyebrow paired with the surprised but pleased expression on Chuck's face when he strode into Raleigh's room and saw the set-up was well worth the effort.

"Oi, you taking to tea then, mate?"

He shrugged. "Thought I'd give it a try with someone who knew what they were doing. I don't do much caffeine with my insomnia, but I figure it's gotta be better than coffee, right?"

"You have no idea."

Which is how Raleigh Becket discovered that Earl Grey tea, made properly, was the stuff of the gods and that Chuck Hansen, perhaps the finest jaeger pilot alive besides his own father, had been sadly deprived of the opportunity to be a sci fi nerd his entire life. Because Chuck took to _Star Trek_ like a kaiju to carnage and did, indeed, wonder what he'd done his whole life without the starship Enterprise in it.

And when they both conked out across the width of the bed after the fifth muzzy reiteration of, "Just one more episode, mate, c'mon", Raleigh was pretty sure he fell asleep with a smile.

\--

After a quick shower for both of them -- separately, of course -- and Chuck grudgingly agreeing to borrow Raleigh's toothbrush just the once (since he hadn't brought his own because he hadn't expected to stay the whole night), they decided their warm, comfortable pajamas were adequate gear for a late breakfast. Neither of them had anything pressing to do today, anyway. Even semi-retired jaeger pilots needed a day off every now and then.

Thus, they sat companionably across from each other in the mess hall just past the regular breakfast rush, chowing down on cheesy scrambled eggs, ham, sausage, bacon, toast, and hashbrowns and rehashing episodes from the night before, mostly ignoring the few techs still finishing up around them. Their flannel pajama pants flapped down over their boots. Chuck wore an old, worn, no-color henley. Raleigh wore a ratty old sweater left over from his time on the Wall over a t-shirt.

Comfortable. _Friendly_.

So when Tendo plonked down on the bench next to Raleigh, setting his coffee cup down with infinitely more care than he used on himself, neither of them thought anything amiss until he spoke.

"Guess who won the bet!"

Chuck looked puzzled. Raleigh had no idea what Tendo was talking about.

Until he did. At which point, he choked on his ham and tried to make frantic no-no-no gestures. Unfortunately, he did nothing but convince both friends he was actually choking, and he found himself damn near heimliched by Chuck's hard arms before convincing both men he was fine by spitting out the chunk that had tried to go down the wrong pipe.

Jesus. He used to be smooth. What the fuck had happened to him?

"It's a damn good thing you didn't die this soon after making it official, Becket Boy."

Wincing and closing his eyes, Raleigh began to wish he'd choked to death after all.

"Oi, making what official?" Suddenly looking accusing, Chuck fixed him with a scowl. "What'd I miss, mate?"

"Nothing!"

Of course, Tendo talked right over him. "You two finally getting together, of course."

Everything inside him froze. He hadn't even been _thinking_ about that since the night on the roof. He couldn't afford to have a stupid crush on Chuck, who had turned out to be a surprisingly supportive friend. Who had been proud of him for going to therapy. Who had fallen so quickly into _Star Trek_ that Raleigh couldn't help but wish they could go back in time to when they were all kids so they could've hidden out in blanket forts, him and Chuck and Yancy, with flashlights and laptops, watching all night any time they wanted.

Chuck was his friend, and he was fucking grateful. He didn't _need_ more than that. It was more than enough.

"What the fuck are you on about, Elvis?"

Unsure if he was blushing hectically or dangerously pale, Raleigh forced himself to speak. "We're not... together... Tendo." He swallowed hard, unable to look up from his eggs. "Chuck's not...."

Chuck went dangerously silent, and Raleigh fought the urge to sneak a peek at his expression. Even Tendo seemed to finally feel the tension and held his tongue.

When the quiet became acutely uncomfortable, Chuck spoke. "Chuck's not what, Ray?"

Well, fuck. He was in it, now.

"Bi? Interested? Dating me?" Trying to keep his tone light and failing miserably, he reminded his hand not to bend his fork out of useable shape. "Any of the above?"

"There was a betting pool about us dating?"

Closing his eyes, he nodded.

"And you knew about it?"

Another nod.

"Were you planning to tell me?"

"It... it didn't mean anything."

"I fucking well think it does, Ray. I think that's exactly the kind of thing one mate tells another mate."

Tendo fidgeted at his side. Raleigh kept his eyes closed. Please, God, he wasn't already losing the one person besides Mako that he actually felt like a real person around. Tendo was great, but Tendo had his own real life. He had Allison and a baby and a home outside the shatterdome. Tendo was... the past. And Sasha and Aleksis were great, but... they had each other. He was... a puppy they'd taken in out of the rain, which was nice but wasn't enough.

Raleigh had no one, really. Not when Mako had to travel so much. Not when Chuck was about to--

"It didn't mean anything. You've been... nice to me, man. I just... I just wanted to be your friend, okay?"

"I'll just...." Tendo gestured vaguely, picked up his coffee, and made his escape. The lucky bastard.

A dangerous silence fell between them, and Raleigh feared it might become permanent. But what could he say? Even if Chuck wasn't horrified by the idea that the remaining shatterdome personnel were betting on how long it'd take them to hook up, the kid couldn't help but draw the conclusion that Raleigh had friendlied up to him in hopes of getting laid.

But it hadn't been like that. He'd just... wanted to know. Wanted to know Chuck better. And when he had, he just wanted to keep knowing him. Simple as that.

"We're just friends, Chuck. It doesn't mean anything."

Without another word, Chuck stood up from the table and walked away.

\--

The book held no interest for him. Raleigh hadn't seen hide nor hair of Chuck since morning, and no matter how hard he tried to get his mind to accept that their brief, promising friendship was probably over, he just couldn't do it. Sighing, he put aside _The Thin Red Line_ , still bookmarked on the same page from the night on the roof, and stared up at the ceiling.

He knew Mako was still busy. She'd messaged him earlier that the trip had been extended again, and she was so sorry but she wouldn't be back for at least another week. She'd heard through the grapevine that he and Chuck were finally dating, so he'd had to yet again fight down the rumor. Her response back had been quick and to the point.

_Don't give up so easy. You underestimate him. And yourself._

Easy for her to say. She was in Tokyo.

So he tried to read, but it wasn't working, and he really shouldn't be surprised because he was pretty sure he could fuck up the simple, autonomic bodily function of swallowing right now.

_Here lies the Great Raleigh Becket, who choked to death on his own tongue while lying in bed trying to read._

Knock, knock.

Frowning, he wondered if maybe Tendo had come to beg forgiveness with a bag of hard candies. That's how his old friend used to apologize back in the day. So, though he felt less like entertaining company than he felt like reading, he hauled himself out of bed and scruffed at his stupid hair on the way to the door. At least he'd remembered socks this time.

His surprise was compete, then, when he realized his visitor was Chuck. A nervous, fidgety Chuck. In pajamas. With a plate of cookies and two cartons of milk.

Feeling stupid all over again, Raleigh could only blink.

"Am I in time for _Star Trek?"_

Wordless, he stepped back and gave Chuck room to enter if he chose. Apparently, he did. Awkward and quiet, they settled themselves across Raleigh's bed, a good person-width of distance between them. The first episode was met with near-silence. Chuck snorted once at Shatner's priceless overacting during a fight scene, but that was about it.

Then, before Raleigh could start the next episode, Chuck cleared his throat. "You didn't want to just be friends, did you?"

Sighing heavily, Raleigh closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "I really did, Chuck. I'm not gonna sit here and say I don't find you attractive, but... you're more important to me than that."

"When did you...?"

He didn't dare open his eyes. "When did I what?"

Chuck cleared his throat again. "Find out about the bet."

Ah. He shrugged. "The day after you accidentally dipped me in the mess. Sasha told me. Apparently, Aleksis found it hilarious."

"How the hell did _he_ know?"

He huffed a tired laugh. "There's a video. The med techs showed him."

"Jesus."

"Yeah."

A moment's quiet fell. Then, Chuck spoke again. "So... did you already... ya know....?"

"Chuck, you're really gonna have to start finishing your sentences. I can't answer questions that aren't asked yet."

"Fuck you, Becket." A quick shake of the mattress indicated Chuck had shifted, probably to cross his arms, guessing from the accompanying rustle of fabric. "Were you already attracted when I fucking dipped you?"

He huffed. Then chuckled. The more he thought about it, the funnier it became. Chuck wanted to know if Raleigh'd been attracted to him the whole time. Was that Chuck wanting his ego fed or Chuck being honestly curious?

Didn't matter. The answer was the same either way.

"No. Didn't know right after, either." He shrugged, finally opening his eyes to look up at the ceiling. "It'd just... been a long time."

"Since what?"

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "Since anyone held me like that."

"...Oh."

Silence. Well, except for the occasional fidgeting.

Finally: "And the roof?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I knew I was attracted to you by then. No, I wasn't trying to get into your pants. I gave you _more_ clothes, remember?"

To his surprise, Chuck snorted, and Raleigh finally looked over at him. The kid looked a bit red-faced, but not actually angry.

"You were being nice, Chuck. I'd decided way before I had that stupid panic attack that you weren't interested and you were trying to be friendly, so that's all I wanted. To be friendly." He shrugged. "Honestly, I figure you aren't into guys, and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Shift, shift, squirm, squirm. So much for that. "I'm... not. Into guys."

Raleigh nodded, resignedly draining his milk carton and crushing it before swishing it into his trash can. Nothing but net.

When he settled back against the wall, Chuck suddenly scooted closer, leaned over, and... _kissed_ him.

He was honestly too shocked to do much but let him. He didn't exactly kiss back, but he didn't exactly struggle, either. It was brief, closed-mouthed, and over before he really had time to evaluate deeper than that.

Eyes wide, he stared as Chuck pulled away, frowning and blushing and staring at him like he was trying to figure something out.

After a long, excruciatingly awkward moment, he grunted. "What the fuck was that?"

The blush deepened. "That was... not as weird as I thought it'd be, honestly."

He blinked, gape-mouthed. Taking advantage, Chuck leaned in again, but this time, Raleigh jerked away just out of reach.

"Oi, what--"

"Chuck, you don't have to do this."

This time, he suspected the red was from the beginnings of flustered anger, coupled as it was with the start of a scowl. "Do what?"

Huffing, he gestured between them. "Whatever this is. You don't... I meant it, okay? Friends is enough for me."

Stiffening, Chuck crossed his arms and sat ramrod straight back against the wall. "What if I want more?"

He sighed. "You don't."

"Maybe I do. You don't know."

His eyes narrowed, and he shot the kid a look. "Okay, let's just say for the sake of argument that you're... curious. What _exactly_ are you curious about that kissing me is gonna tell you?"

Softening a bit, Chuck swallowed hard and refused to meet his eyes. "Maybe... why I slept better last night than I have in a month."

He opened his mouth, then shut it again.

"Maybe why it didn't feel weird to cuddle you when you were having a panic attack. Why I didn't want to let go when it was over."

_Don't... don't get your hopes up, Rals. It doesn't mean anything._

"Why I felt kinda stupid and floaty in the head when I walked in here last night and saw you'd brought me tea and cake."

_Dammit, Chuck, just stop...._

"Why I wasn't as pissed off as I expected to be after Tendo said we were dating."

The bastard leaned close again until Raleigh felt his warm breath fan his cheek. "Why I want to kiss you again because I couldn't really tell anything from that first one."

His breath caught in his throat as he turned his head just so, and Chuck took that for the okay it probably was. It wasn't as awkward an angle this time, and it wasn't all dry and clinical. In fact, as Chuck tilted his head a bit and really kissed him, he realized that he should probably stop mentally referring to him as "the kid" because Chuck Hansen was a really good kisser.

Patient. Thorough. Not too wet or too dry. And, after a few moments, with just the right amount of tongue.

They parted enough to breathe, leaning their foreheads together, not touching in any other way. Part of Raleigh tried to prepare him for the cold dousing of reality he'd feel when Chuck got up and walked away, never to return. The rest of him basked in the closeness, in the warmth even such a relatively simple kiss had curled in his stomach.

Sighing, he decided to get it over with. The big reveal. He didn't dare let the warmth get too familiar, just in case.

"Well?" He huffed, but it wasn't a laugh. "What do you think?"

Chuck grinned a little, his ridiculous eyelashes tickling Raleigh's cheeks as he blinked open his eyes. "I think... I might not be one hundred percent straight, mate."

Raleigh pulled away and stared, almost afraid that a wider view would show him... something. Some clue that this wasn't real. Wasn't actually happening.

Maybe Chuck saw something of that in his expression, because instead of getting fussed, he grinned a little, not quite bringing out the dimple but flirting with the idea.

"Might just be you I'm into, though. Never wanted to kiss another bloke."

Raleigh's fingers tightened in his blankets. He didn't want to... he'd tried so hard not to... he just....

"Chuck, what exactly are you saying?"

The grin deepened, and that fucking dimple carved deep, making Chuck look about fifteen years old. "I'm saying that, if you're game, we should probably tell Tendo he won that bet, after all."

Another kiss, as warm and patient and thorough as the last, and Raleigh... let himself believe it. Just a little. Let himself respond. Let himself kiss back for real.

And when they again pulled back just enough for air, he found himself grinning. "Or... maybe we should wait and ask Sasha when her guess was, then announce it then."

Chuck snorted and shook his head, stealing a tiny kiss. "I see it now." Another little peck. "That's how you got in with the Russians." Smooch. "It all makes sense now."

Huffing a chuckle, Raleigh shrugged. "Or we could let the Weis win, considering they were the ones who put that piece of Crimson Typhoon in the mess for me to trip over in the first place."

Eyes wide, Chuck pulled completely away. "Those cheeky fuckers!"

Finally, he laughed outright. "And filmed it. And put it online."

"Oi, I'll kill 'em all three at once!"

Greatly daring now, he reached out and grabbed a handful of Chuck's henley and tugged him close enough to count freckles if he wanted. After a quick glance to make sure it was okay, he grinned and did the kissing this time, starting to feel like this was something he could have. Something Chuck wanted.

Something he hadn't fucked up.

Then, Chuck jerked away. "Oi, I'd better not find out my old man put in a bet."

"Oh, Jesus." Shaking his head, Raleigh shifted to lean back against the wall, pleased when Chuck sat back, too, so close they were just shy of pressed together. "What's he gonna think about all of this?"

But that, Chuck waved away even as he set the next episode to play and scooted closer still. "Honestly, mate, he'll be happy if I'm happy. Had too close a shave during Pitfall, yeah?"

Raleigh guessed that made sense. Herc would accept anything, so long as Chuck was alive and well. It had been a very near thing that no one liked to think about too closely. Even a year later.

But... he had to ask. "So... you think you'll be happy? With me?"

They were sitting too close for an actual elbowing, but Chuck did his best, then reached over and threaded their fingers together. It felt... awkward. Chuck's hands were still hard. But it also felt like something that wouldn't be awkward for long, maybe.

"Never know 'til we try, yeah?"

True enough.

So, instead of pushing for anything else, Raleigh let himself be quietly thrilled with what he had. Chuck's hand in his. The ghost of Chuck's taste in his mouth. The warmth of that big, hard body cuddled up against his side.

 _Star Trek_.

For the first time in a long time, life was good. And maybe, if he was lucky, Chuck would dip him on purpose next time.

Hey. A guy could dream.

**THE END**


End file.
